


Punk's Not Dead

by stereobone



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Punk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereobone/pseuds/stereobone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They go to shows together, protests, drink, mess around in Erwin's bed. It's just how it is. Anyone who knows Erwin now knows that Levi will be with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punk's Not Dead

He's like, eight or nine watered-down beers drunk when the fight starts. A few guys in the mosh pit get into it, they always do, but that's not why Levi stays out of them. Punks are dirty. Levi feels grimed up enough just standing in this bar, cigarette smoke burning his eyes. One on one becomes three on one and Levi watches from a safe distance. Security will break it up once they decide to get off their asses, but it still pisses him off. If you're going to fight, at least fight fair. Levi tosses his empty beer into the garbage, and when he looks up, all three guys are on the ground. The one who was getting his ass kicked is standing huddled behind some new guy. He looks thick in his heavy leather jacket, head shaved close except for the tuft on top that could be a mohawk if he gelled it. Instead it's pushed back, almost like a tail. Levi doesn't know how long he was looking down for (his sense of time is always fucked when he's drunk), but the guy must have taken the others down quick. The band keeps playing like nothing happened. But Levi isn't really interested anymore, and besides, they're a shit show anyway. He only went because the bartenders don't check ID. The guy with the leather jacket wipes his bloody knuckles off on his black jeans and then starts leaving, the crowd parting easy for him. A few guys throw their beer cans in the air. Levi darts around a couple making out and heads for the exit, shoving through oblivious punks until he's stumbling out into the cold New York City air.

Levi rubs his hands along his bare arms, searches the street. He catches site of the guy nearly a block away, an anarchy symbol spray-painted in white on the back of his jacket. His boots thud against the concrete as he walks fast and tries to catch up. It's another half a block when he does, and before he can tap the guy's shoulder, he turns around and stops. Levi has to jerk back to avoid running straight into him.

"Shit," he says, stepping back.

"Are you following me?" the guy says.

He doesn't look angry about it, just curious, amused. Levi sniffs.

"No. I mean, not in like a creepy way, fuck." He shoves his hands into his pockets. "You took those guys down yourself?"

The guy's expression hardens a bit. "Were they your friends?"

"Fuck no," Levi says.

A group of elderly women pass them, so they both step to the side, closer to the buildings.

"Three on one is hardly a fair fight," the guy says. He's looking right at Levi. "They had no honor."

So that's why he stepped in. Levi figured he didn't know any of them since he left alone, but he couldn't figure out why he'd gone in like that, defended someone he didn't know. He's never actually seen someone do that before.

"You just go around standing up for people?" Levi says.

The guy grins. "Sometimes."

"You're all anti-establishment and shit, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little bit," he says. "My name's Erwin."

"Levi."

They go silent for a minute, and Levi looks at Erwin's rough face and blue eyes and thinks he's probably the coolest person he's ever met in this stupid city. He isn't like those other loser punks who talk big but don't act. Erwin seems like he's got principles, and he sticks to them. Levi scratches at his head, strangely sheepish. His hair is cut like Erwin's, a typical punk cut, but he lets it fall forward over his eyes, wild.

"I don't like that kind of stuff either," Levi says. "Picking on the little guy."

"You shouldn't," says Erwin. "No one should."

Levi nods, unsure how to continue the conversation. He thinks about just walking away even though he doesn't want to, but Erwin speaks again before he can do anything.

"You like beer?" he says.

"Of course I like beer, I'm not a goddamn animal."

Beer has always been the way Levi's made friends—beer and music and fighting. It's what he's good at. That's what 1983 is about. Erwin smiles at him, the studs on his jacket shining under the streetlamps.

"Come on," he says, and leads Levi into the night.

\--

He spends a lot of time at Erwin's apartment even though Erwin insists it's not really his. It's everybody's. People come and go, a lot of people Levi doesn't know and he thinks Erwin might not know them either, but if someone needs a place to stay, Erwin is always opening his door. He just has two rules: no stealing and no drugs. Levi used to call Erwin from a payphone to let him know he was coming over, now he just shows up and knows he's welcome. Some days it feels like a subway station the way people are moving in and out, collective bodies as one. Most days it's just Levi with Erwin and his friends. He's gotten to know them pretty well over the past few weeks. They hang out and listen to Black Flag and drink beer and talk politics until no one can form words anymore.

Erwin is smart, really smart, and he has a lot of radical ideas and people listen to him, but from what Levi can tell, he doesn't consider himself a leader. When Mike or Nanaba or Hanji is talking, he's quiet. He listens. He's got a king size bed in his room with dark sheets that Levi likes to sit on. When there's no room in the front room he sleeps in it, Erwin snoring quietly next to him. The first time it happened, he'd fallen asleep drunk at the table and woke up in Erwin's bed the next morning, Erwin next to him. Neither of them said anything about. Now it's just something that happens. There's an American flag over the bed with the words "No Future" spray-painted on in black that Erwin made. He talks to Levi a lot when he's had too much to drink, eyes bright.

"This is our time," he says to him. "It's 1983, Levi. Things are changing. They have been changing."

And Levi hangs on every word, arms draped around his knees, wondering where Erwin got so much passion from, and hoping he can take some of it with him. Erwin's also got a collection of WWII blades that he shows to Levi when no one else is around.

"Here," he says one night, when they've just gotten back from a show and smell like smoke and sweat. "Take it."

He puts a switchblade into Levi's palm, an eagle carved expertly into the wood.

"It belonged to a POW in Germany."

Levi holds the blade, flicks it out. It shines beautifully in the dull apartment light, sharp and silver. It looks expensive.

"Seriously?" he says.

Erwin folds Levi's fingers over the blade.

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't."

"Thanks," Levi says, skin warm, Erwin's hand so much bigger than his own.

He never goes anywhere without it now.

\--

They run through alleyways, half-giggling, half out of breath, their legs burning to pump blood. The bouncers have probably stopped following them by now, but Levi doesn't stop running because Erwin doesn't. He follows him ten blocks until they can duck into another alleyway. Erwin slumps against the wall, clutches his chest, breathing heavy. Levi peaks around the corner.

"I think we lost them," he says.

Erwin had snuck him into a Dead Kennedys show, but they got busted halfway through the second set when Levi tried to buy a beer. He's only eighteen, and the drinking age went up to twenty-one just this year.

"It's a bullshit law," Erwin had said. "You can sign away your life at eighteen but you can't buy a beer?"

He's twenty-three but Levi forgets he's so much younger most of the time because Erwin doesn't treat him like he is. They stay in the alleyway a few minutes longer before Erwin pushes off the brick wall, adjusting his jacket.

"Stay here," he says. "I'll run next door and get some beers."

The thing about New York is that you can get anything anywhere. That's why Levi came here, that's what he loves about it. Five minutes later, Erwin comes back into the alley with a six-pack and sets them on the ground. Levi goes to pull one out, but Erwin stops him.

"Wait," he says. "We'll shotgun."

"What?"

Erwin pulls a can from the pack, then his switchblade. He punctures the bottom of the can, foam pouring out, and then brings it to his mouth and drinks. After a few seconds, he moves the can to Levi's mouth. Levi's teeth hit the cold aluminum of the can but he drinks anyway, warmed by the taste of beer. He keeps his hands at his sides and lets Erwin hold the can for him while he sucks down the rest of the beer, throat bobbing. Levi finally pulls away, the last of the beer spilling over his chin and throat.

"Fuck," he says, and coughs.

He goes to wipe his chin but Erwin does it for him, wets his fingers with beer and then brings them to his mouth and licks. Levi shivers.

"Weirdo," he says. "Gimme another."

They shotgun two more beers together. Then it starts raining. They ditch the beers in the alley and head for the subway with Levi huddled close to Erwin. Erwin has a car, a '75 Chevette that barely runs, so they hardly use it unless they need to get out of the city. When it rains, though, it sucks. Levi's wearing a shirt with the sleeves cut off again, usually always does, and the rain feels like needles on his skin. They get two blocks when Erwin stops suddenly, and Levi stops with him, rubbing at his arms to try and keep warm.

"What the hell, Erwin?"

"Here," Erwin says, and takes off his jacket.

He drapes it over Levi's shoulders and it's warm, really warm, and smells like Erwin. Levi looks up at him.

"It's too big, asshole," he says.

Erwin laughs, water dripping from his lip.

"No, it looks good," he says.

They ride the subway back to Erwin's, Levi wearing his jacket, Levi warmer than he's ever been.

\--

A week later, Erwin gets arrested at a labor protest. Levi doesn't know exactly how it happens. One minute he's taking a piss behind a tree, the next minute he sees Erwin getting tackled by police. There's also a woman on the ground, screaming because she's been pepper-sprayed. Levi starts running, fists ready, but Erwin yells no at him from the ground.

"Wait, Levi," he says.

And Levi does, but barely, the switchblade Erwin gave him heavy in his back pocket.

"What the fuck," he says. "You can't just arrest him, this is a peaceful protest."

"He assaulted an officer," one cop says, and hauls Erwin upright.

He's handcuffed, dirt smudged on his face. The cops start leading him away.

"Hey," Levi says. "Hey—"

"It's all right," Erwin says.

Levi follows them through the crowd, panicked.

"Where are you taking him?"

"13th precinct," the other cop says. "Don't worry, we're just going to hold him."

"It's all right," Erwin says again, before the shove him into the back of the car.

Levi starts running.

He sprints all the way back to Erwin's apartment, barely feeling his legs. All he can think about is Erwin in jail, Erwin handcuffed and being pushed around by fucking cops. He runs up the stairs and barrels through the front door, relieved to see only Mike and Nanaba there. Levi stares at them for a second, just to get some breath back, then starts tearing the apartment up.

"Hey, whoa," Mike says. "What's up?"

"Fucking pigs got Erwin." Levi pulls the sheets from Erwin's bed. "I gotta go get him."

"Erwin got arrested?"

"Where the hell are the car keys?" Levi says, slightly more hysterical than he probably should be.

"Found them," Nanaba calls from the hall.

She tosses them to Mike, who tosses them to Levi.

"You know how to drive?" Mike says.

Levi shoves the keys into his front pocket, kicking an empty pizza box as he goes back through the front room.

"Of course I do," he says, and slams the door.

\--

He doesn't know how to drive. Erwin's let him a few times, only late at night and only when he's too drunk to do it himself. Levi just knows the basics. He's never driven in New York traffic before, and never more than a few blocks. He speeds to the precinct anyway, staying in one lane as long as he can, vision skewed because he has no clue how to adjust any of the mirrors. The car sounds like it's dying, groaning and twisting as he drives, but it holds on long enough for Levi to get to the station, and he manages not to hit anything. Levi puts the car in park and jumps out without bothering to lock the doors.

He skids to a stop inside the station, phones ringing and shoes squeaking. Levi's been hauled in a few times on stupid charges—drinking underage, fighting, and all precincts are laid out pretty much the same, so it doesn't take him long to find the front desk.

"Erwin Smith," he says to the cop at the front desk, breathless still. "You brought in an Erwin Smith."

The cop looks up over his magazine, chin drooping.

"I didn't bring him in," he says.

Levi rolls his eyes. This is going to take a while.

\--

They left Erwin go after a few hours. He isn't charged. Levi waits for him in a chair, legs jittery, the keys to the Chevette jingling in his hand. When Erwin comes out of the back and sees Levi waiting for him, he smiles, jacket slung over his shoulder. Levi tosses him the keys. Erwin catches them easily, looks down at them.

"Did you drive over here?" he says.

Levi shifts on his feet. "What else was I going to do?"

Erwin puts an arm around him, leading him out.

"You can't drive," he says fondly.

Levi shoves him away half-heartedly.

"I'm a quick learner, asshole."

It's dark outside now, the streets coming to life with people and the diamonds of headlights. Erwin drives back to his apartment, Levi quiet in the passenger seat. When they park in back of the apartment, neither of them moves from the car. Levi picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans. Erwin shuts the car off, keys still in the ignition, and it is quiet.

"What happened?" Levi says.

"They pepper-sprayed that woman for no reason." Erwin sighs, hands on the steering wheel. "I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

Levi pulls a black thread from his jeans and tosses it onto the ground.

"I can't leave you alone for one second," he says.

Erwin's hand teases at the back of his head, tickling the short hairs there. Levi swats his hand away, swearing.

"Fuck off, man."

Erwin pulls his hand away.

"Thank you," he says, serious now.

Levi looks over at him, his hair sticking half up, his old Descendents t-shirt too tight on him. He wants to tell Erwin he doesn't have to thank him for anything, because he'd do anything for him, but the words don't sound right in his head, so he says nothing. What he does instead is lean over and kiss Erwin short and quick, lips barely lingering before he pulls back.

"You're such a dumbass," he says.

Levi reaches for the door handle but Erwin pulls him back by the wrist, both hands moving to Levi's face. He kisses him, and his mouth tastes like beer and revolution and Levi can't fucking get enough. They make out in the car like a couple of teenagers whose parents were too strict, tongues searching and tasting, teeth biting. Levi wants to feel Erwin's lips swell so he nips at them, tongue soothing over the broken skin.

"I want to suck your dick," he says, hands already fumbling with Erwin's belt.

"Have you ever?" Erwin says, trailing off.

Levi hasn't, not ever, but he wants to, he wants to for Erwin.

"Quick learner, remember?" he says.

Erwin laughs softly, sucks a mark into his jaw, lifts his hips so Levi can tug his jeans down just enough. He isn't wearing underwear and his cock is already hard. Levi opens his mouth and wets his lips, nervous now. Erwin puts a hand on his cock and guides it to Levi's mouth, the head of it pressed against his lip, pre-come welling at the tip. Levi licks the pre-come, then swirls his tongue around the head, looking up to Erwin for cues. But Erwin's eyes have already fluttered closed, bottom lip sucked into his teeth, so Levi takes him into his mouth, hand braced on Erwin's thigh. Erwin grabs hold of his hair tightly, alternating between pulling and petting.

"Good, Levi," he says. "That's so good, you're so good."

His voice sounds strangled and desperate and Levi likes it. He hollows his cheeks and sucks harder, head bobbing. When Erwin's cock touches the back of his throat it feels strange, but Levi kind of likes it, the way he's nearly gagging around him. Erwin taps his shoulder when he's about to come but Levi doesn't pull off. He swallows Erwin down, pulls off by licking his way up the length of Erwin's cock, eyes on him the whole time.

"Fuck," Erwin says. "Levi."

Levi wipes at his mouth.

"I need a beer."

Erwin laughs, pants still down, and Levi grins behind his hand.

\--

For the next week they play music too loud in Erwin's room so they can fool around, curious fingers and eager tongues. No one says anything about Erwin's door suddenly being locked.

\--

"Check those assholes out," Levi says.

He nudges Erwin, who nods. "I see them."

They're at a Misfits show, Erwin sneaking Levi beer when no one is looking. A couple of Nazi skinheads showed up and they've been starting shit since the show started, jeering at any punks that aren't white. They've started to become a thing around the city lately. Erwin and Levi have had the privilege of not running into any until now. Levi's ranted about them before, drunk in Erwin's bed, about how they completely negate the subculture of being punk. Erwin and his circle of friends all feel the same, though Levi supposes they're also his circle of friends now as well.

He hangs out with Erwin nearly every day. He practically lives at his apartment. Levi can hardly remember what he did before meeting Erwin, and doesn't want to think of doing things without him. They go to shows together, protests, drink, mess around in Erwin's bed. It's just how it is. Anyone who knows Erwin now knows that Levi will be with him.

The skinhead's stay pretty quiet for the rest of the show, but once they all pile into the street, one of them bumps into Levi.

"Watch it, kike," he says.

Levi shoves him, not bothering to correct that he isn't even Jewish.

"Fuck off out of here," he says. "Watch your fucking language."

The crowd is silent for only a few seconds before the skinhead throws the first punch. It catches Levi on the cheek. Then it's Erwin and Levi against five skinheads. The odds should be stacked against them, but Erwin and Levi can take on two guys each by themselves, and the other skinhead ends up getting swallowed in the crowd. Erwin bashes one of their heads against the wall of the venue, blood trickling onto the bricks. Levi kicks one of the skinhead's to the ground, his Doc Marten's leaving a mark on the back of his t-shirt. The other he leaves with a broken nose, crooked and purpling. The last skinhead emerges from the crowd with brass knuckles, thinking they'll be too tired to defend themselves now. Levi pulls the switchblade Erwin gave him from his back pocket.

"Come on," he says, face feral. "Try me."

The skinhead doesn't get the chance. Sirens wail in the distance and everyone starts scattering. Erwin grabs Levi's wrist and they run, the blade still clutched in his hand. He feels exhilarated, adrenaline-filled. His knuckles sting and his cheek hurts from where he got punched but he doesn't care.

"Gotta get you home," Erwin says, his thumb rubbing against Levi's pulse point. "Christ, I need you naked."

\--

He holds his legs open on the bed, fingers pressed into the meat of his thigh.

"Say it again for me."

Levi fists the sheets, vision spinning.

"Nazi punks fuck off."

He watches the ceiling, the water stains, drunk and heavy. Erwin kneels down and licks him, breath hot.

"Keep talking," he says.

Levi twitches. He almost punched Erwin when he suggested this, but now he's slurring and boneless and helplessly aroused.

"Crooked cops fuck off. Their whole— _fuck_ —their warped justice."

Erwin's tongue pushes into him, circling, prodding. He feels so fucking wet and it should be disgusting, but it's the opposite. The door is shut, and there are about ten people in the next room. Levi can hear them occasionally, laughing and talking. They have no idea what's going on in here, and the thrill of that has Levi even harder. Erwin mouths wetly against his asshole, teeth grazing lightly over the sensitive skin. Levi bites his wrist to stop from screaming.

"Capitalist pigs fuck off," he says.

His orgasm is building fast, pelvis tight, and when Erwin shoves his tongue back in Levi lets out a moan that's a little too loud. Erwin reaches up and covers his mouth with his hand.

"Shh," he says.

Levi licks his palm and Erwin pulls his hand away, looks at Levi with hooded eyes. He touches the tender skin of Levi's cheek where he got punched.

"My little anarchist," he says, voice low and syrupy.

"Yeah," Levi says, legs shaking. "Fuck yeah."

\--

They go like this: lazy weekends with their naked bodies touching at all times, slow sex in the afternoon, drunken sex at night. Levi wears Erwin's Bad Brains shirt even though it's two sizes too big for him like it's a brand because he wants people to know. Erwin drapes his jacket around him on cold nights and always saves him a beer. Levi wants to change the world with him, and he tells him that, but only when he's drunk and working himself open on Erwin's cock, Erwin's fingers playing with his nipples roughly. Times when Erwin's car works they drive out of the city and go camping, Levi stoking the fire until it's too big and Erwin has to snuff it out, boots nearly catching on fire.

"Where are you parents?" Erwin asks one night. They're camping under the stars, shoved into one sleeping bag.

"I don't know," Levi says. "I've never known."

He has the switchblade out that Erwin gave him and he's carving nonsense patterns into a thick stick of wood.

"Where are yours?"

"Connecticut," Erwin says. "They don't speak to me."

Levi grunts and throws the stick into the darkness, not caring to see where it lands.

"They're shit, then, don't worry about them."

Erwin wraps an arm around him, pulls him close. It smells like burning wood and hops and dry leaves.

"I don't," he says.

They get arrested together at an anti-nuclear protest. When a cop shoves, Levi shoves back. Then it's Erwin stepping in between them. Then it's the two of them being thrown to the ground and handcuffed, their faces shoved against concrete and their arms twisted awkwardly behind their backs. Levi gets heaved into the back of a squad car with Erwin, the hard metal of the cuffs breaking into the skin of his wrists. The cop shuts the door, and they're alone in the back of the car, a roar of protestors around them. Levi rotates his shoulder a bit, trying to get the feeling back.

"We'll be fine," Erwin says.

Levi shrugs as best as he can.

"I know that."

And he does. With Erwin he knows he'll be all right, and Erwin knows the same. They're a team now, and Levi's things are permanently at Erwin's apartment and neither of them had to say anything about it. They rarely do with each other.

The cop comes back and starts the car, ready to take them down the station. They'll get held for a few hours, then released. The car pulls out, jostling them, and all Levi is thinking about is drinking a beer when they get let go, but then Erwin's pinkie curls around his own. It's awkward with their wrists cuffed and their arms wrenched behind their back but Erwin does it anyway. Levi looks up at him, cheeks hot, and then curls his pinkie around Erwin's as well. They stay like that until they get to the station, cuffed together.

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I prompted [HamletMachine](http://hamletmachine.tumblr.com/) with some punk!eruri and she drew [it](http://hamletmachine.tumblr.com/post/77663750784/some-punk-eruri-for-stereo)! [Twice](http://hamletmachine.tumblr.com/post/78358824653/quick-punk-eruri-jacket)! So naturally I decided to write some for her. And now everyone wins. This was supposed to be just a few hundred words...oops.
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated ♥


End file.
